


Costume

by wigglebox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Barebacking, Homophobic Language, M/M, Police, Quick and rough, Slurs, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 18:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: Take what you can whenever you can get it.





	Costume

The goal? Basic drug bust. 

The problem? The drugs and the Big Daddy dealer resided inside a traveling carnival that hit all the major drug towns in Michigan. 

The carnies don’t expect to meet well dressed, business-like white men in a Staples parking lot to pass the goods off. Instead, they expect to meet a guy who is on his last dollar and wants some relief or wants to push drugs for some extra money. 

Dean looked at himself in the mirror while D.V. T. F. did their thing, getting their own gear in ready. He drew the short straw this time and wound up looking like an idiot. 

Cas glanced over to him a few times while he pulled his vest on, and Dean wished he didn’t. He had dirty jeans on with about a hundred holes in them. They put some eye-makeup on to make it look like he hadn’t slept in days, messed up his hair, gave him a ratty shirt with two zip-up hoodies to throw over it. Some fake bruises littered his neck and collarbone which made it look like he frequently got into fights. It was sad. Dean would speak with the guys in Faraway all the time who looked like this, and now he was impersonating them in a cheap parody. The worse was the small amount of whiskey which was pressed into the skin behind his ears. He smelled like his father. 

It was all so depressing. 

Dean needed the night to be over. 

The contact was established two towns back, and the meet up would happen that night in the Faraway Town Fairgrounds, just as the fair closed. 

Dean had to drive an impounded car that no one claimed while Cas and the guys got to drive in the tricked out SUVs. 

All geared up, D.V.T.F. and Dean hung around the back entrance of the police department, waiting for the junker to come around. Cas sidled up next to him, the reassuring smile from before now out in a complete, shit eating grin. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t even start okay? You’re doing this next time,” Dean complained, sticking his hands in the hoodie’s pockets. He felt naked without his uniform and vest. 

Cas glanced around to make sure they were alone, then moved as close as he dared to Dean without drawing any attention. 

“I don’t care. You still look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.” 

The sentence was barely discernible over the conversations around them but Dean heard it well enough and inhaled sharply. 

The department didn’t know about their relationship, and in backwoods Michigan, the fags fairies, pillow biters got shot or beat. On some days, Dean and Cas would skate the line of almost getting caught but mostly had to keep to themselves. It was difficult due to their constant presence around each other on the Drug and Violence Task Force. If they didn’t learn to ignore each other, they’d be fucking on the desk during roll call without a care in the world. 

Right now, they were smack in the middle of fourteen men and five women, most of whom were God-fearing, Trump-loving, Blue Lives Matter people that wouldn’t very much appreciate a bunch of queers infiltrating their department. 

“You got balls tonight,” Dean muttered, adjusting the hoodie zip as he heard a squeaky transmission rounding the corner. 

“If you live, maybe you’ll get to see them later,” Cas responded, casual and soft, before walking off to his waiting SUV, leaving Dean dumbfounded and slightly aroused.

Two goals were accomplished that night: The bust went down with Carnie Rick shoved into the back of a squad car along with six ‘associates’. 

And Dean lived. 

He didn’t think he would die or get seriously wounded, but there’s always that small nugget of fear in the back of any cop’s mind. Luckily for Dean, Carnie Rick had one too many bong hits and a shot of dope before meeting with Dean, and his reflexes were slow as shit. 

Cas was the first one into the bust, gun drawn and yelling at Carnie Rick to drop to the ground, hands above his head. He kept Rick on the ground as everyone else moved into the trailers at the back end of the fairgrounds, an area called The Campground. Dean also drew his concealed pistol and held it on Carnie Rick even though he didn’t need to. The man was down. He looked asleep in the dirt. 

Cas said nothing and refused to acknowledge Dean. All that did was make that slight arousal from before grow. Right in the middle of a bust. 

 

Dean was antsy the whole ride back.

The trip from the fairgrounds back to the station was minutes and the adrenaline from the takedown wasn’t going away. Dean wanted to speed into it. He managed to keep his heart out of his throat during the whole operation, but it was jumping now. Various images come to Dean of him and Cas fucking somewhere at the station. Somewhere. Anywhere. He didn’t care if it was in the goddamn hallway -- just anywhere. Over a desk, in the locker room, in a squad car -- 

That image caused Dean to suddenly reach down and grab himself, feeling his cock harden under his grip. He hadn’t had an adrenaline rush like this in nearly ten years at the department. They had busts, broke up crime rings and gangs over the years but Dean didn’t have to deal with Cas until six months prior when the man got transferred to D.V.T.F.

And Dean could just _not_ get enough. It was like he was twenty all over again, and he would be embarrassed by it except Cas had the same level of enthusiasm. They were at the same level. But, they always kept it in check until they got back to either one of their apartments. 

Dean really, _really_ didn’t think they’d make it home before one of them burst.

Pressing his foot a little harder on the gas pedal, Dean ran through a red light at Fourth and Daley, hoping to God no one saw him. 

 

They made it as far as the backlot garage. 

The junker was stored in a detached garage in the far corner of the property. Dean eased it in, anxious to get out and get going. But, when Dean opened the door and stood, he saw the garage door closing. Cas was inside, pressing the manual button. Judging by his disheveled appearance, he was just as frustrated as Dean. They were not going to last long. 

“Hit the lights, the windows are eye level,” Dean ordered, pointing to the switch panel by the button. Cas obeyed without a word, and flipped them all at once, throwing them into the darkness. 

It took Dean a minute for his eyes to adjust, the only light coming from the orange parking lot light several feet away. When he could finally see, Cas still stood by the garage door, in the shadows. The orange light hit only parts of Dean through the small windows, and Dean could tell Cas was just soaking in the scene. It was his thing, and Dean went along with it every time. 

“You gonna come get me?” Dean raised his arms, his left hand grazing the roof of the car. 

Dean was still in his sting get up and wanted out, but, a full dress down was too risky. Cas himself took off his bulletproof vest and tossed it on the floor like a sack of potatoes. For his part, Dean shed the two zip ups he had on and tossed them through the open window of the car and managed to unbutton the front of his pants before Cas got hold of him. That was all the disrobing they felt safe with. 

Maneuvering in the dark was hard but they managed to find each other.

It was only round one, just enough to take the edge off. No formalities and no going slow. 

Cas spun Dean around so his front pressed up against the glass and metal. 

Dean could feel the coolness through the thin shirt, chilling his heated skin. 

“Do you have --” Dean started but before he could finish, Cas was pulling at the top of his pants. So that was a yes. 

Turned out, Cas had been carrying a small packet of lube the whole night that had come with a men’s magazine. He had it stowed away in his breast pocket for hours. Cas was fully intending to get at Dean before they even thought to go home. That knowledge only cranked Dean up more and he put his forehead down on his arms resting on the roof of the car. 

They didn’t need the use of condoms anymore after getting their test results back the previous month. It was still a new feeling for them. The first time he screwed around with a guy he had a scare, and ever since then, he’d never had that full contact. Dean found himself sometimes craving that feeling. It was still exciting every time, and while up against a car in a gritty police garage, it was intimacy clashing with his environment. 

For Dean, everything was starting to blur. He didn’t crave skin to skin contact, just needed a release. He didn’t need little words of love and comfort, he just wanted groans and harsh breathing against the back of his neck. 

And that’s what he got. 

Without any words, Cas pressed himself against Dean and slipped into him with one breath. The sudden body heat and the clothing encasing both of them quickly changed Dean from slightly chilly to hot as fire. He kept himself tucked in his own underwear knowing the discomfort the car metal would bring. The pressure was still on the edge of discomfort, but at this point, someone could just breathe on him and Dean would pop off. 

There was no rhythm, no rhyme or reason to Cas’s motions, making it clear to both of them that they just needed to rid themselves of the chaotic energy that had been building all night. Blood was rushing in Dean’s ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, pulses of lightning ricocheting through him with every thrust. At some point, Cas had eased off so Dean wasn’t pressed against the car. Instead, Cas’s hands found their way up under the shirt, holding onto Dean’s waist. Dean slid down the car, his arms resting against the top of the door while his hands held onto the roof. He was able to bend a little, giving Cas more access. It was hard, the pants were tight at the top of his thighs but he managed. Dean was too close to care. 

Suddenly, everything stopped. The hands remained at his waist, and Dean’s breathing was loud and quick, but Cas stopped completely all the way in. Annoyed, Dean looked back. Cas wasn’t totally in Dean’s line of sight, but what he did see was the other man’s head turned away, looking at the garage door windows. 

Panic leaped from Dean’s gut, mixing with the tidal wave that was waiting to crash inside him. Without a breath, Dean turned his head as well. 

Like a deer in headlights. 

Relief came flooding back when Dean saw no faces. But, the deafening adrenaline rush in Dean had blocked out the noise from outside. At some point, three of their fellow officers stumbled to a spot nearby, just out of view. They were laughing and Dean heard something thrown into the metal trash can under the streetlight. A mumbled conversation, another laugh. It didn’t sound like they were getting closer. 

Cas still didn’t move. Annoyance building, and the wave starting to die, Dean turned his head back to the front and started moving his hips on his own. He couldn’t do much, only giving and taking an inch or so, but Dean hoped it would remind Cas of the task at hand. It didn’t work. 

Dean bit back his frustration, trying to stay as quiet as he could. Closing his eyes again, he squeezed as hard as he was able to while hunched over. 

That woke Cas up. 

Only a few thrusts later and they both lost it, almost at the same time. 

Dean didn’t realize how bad his legs were shaking until the bright light faded from behind his eyelids and his heart calmed down. He rested his forearm against the car door and pressed his sweaty forehead against it. Cas still didn’t leave him, and instead moved closer again. For a quick, delusional moment Dean wondered if they could get back up again for a fast round two. But, the adrenaline was rushing out of him, and he felt almost numb. 

“Was I loud? I couldn’t tell,” Dean whispered, still not moving. 

“No, I think we’re fine. They’re still out there though. I don’t know how we can leave without being noticed.”

Dean nodded and opened his eyes again, staring at the oil-stained concrete below him. His underwear was getting cold and uncomfortable, and he was certain the waist of the jeans were cutting circulation off to his legs at that point. 

But they stayed how they were. The urgency was gone, and soft intimacy was trying to take its spot. 

They’d have to leave at some point. The gas fumes were starting to get to Dean. 

“What set you off?” Dean asked, wincing as Cas started to retreat. 

“What?” Cas straightened his pants and shirt out. Dean straightened himself out and cracked his back before turning to look at Cas, a smile on his face. 

“You had planned this, so what made you?”

Cas sighed and pointed at Dean’s legs, his own sheepish smirk forming. 

“Those jeans. The rips in them.” 

“Are you serious? My looking like a drug dealer turned you on?”

Cas rolled his eyes and went over to pick up his vest. 

“It wasn’t everything, just those pants,” Cas paused, “Do you think they’ll let you keep those?” 

Dean held back his laughter as they both snuck out the back door and into the shadows, dodging any prying eyes along the way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Another smut prompt! This is #13 on both mobile and desktop:  
> “I really don’t care. You still look hot and I’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now.”
> 
> Requested by orangecreamsicle2-blog on Tumblr! 
> 
> This took me a while to write - my muse straight up ditched me at the altar. I wanted to go more in depth with this but I'm still happy with what came out. I'm starting to realize I like these two in a police setting oops!


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